Four Marauders and a Time Turner
by Squaresque
Summary: The Marauders have no idea what they're getting themselves into when they steal a Time Turner. No. Idea. Set mostly in Harry Potter's era, OotP. NOT SLASH, probably not romance but you never know. Please R & R!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! First try with a Marauder fic. I understand this time travel thing is kind of a popular idea, so it's hard to match up to all the fantastic writers out there. But please R & R anyway! Tactlessness is fine (:**

"Ogling someone again, Prongs?"

James Potter quickly swiveled back in his seat, fighting the urge not to crane his neck and look down the table. Beside him, Sirius sniggered pointedly.

"Nope, 'course not," James said easily, ignoring Sirius.

Remus raised his eyebrows and asked mildly, "It's not by any chance Lily Evans, is it?"

James grabbed his friend in a painful headlock.

"Ah, Moony, ever the imaginative one!" he declared loudly, mussing up his sandy-brown hair just a bit too violently. Lupin groaned and extricated himself, averting his eyes from James' death glare.

"Tough luck, mate," Sirius said sympathetically, now craning _his_ neck to spot her. "Looks like she's going to hang out with old Snivelly again." He watched the pair exit the hall, then chanced a sidelong glance at James, who was suddenly glaring furiously at his roast lamb.

"Aw, c'mon, Prongs, lighten up," he laughed suddenly. "Surprisingly, there's a lot more to life than Evans!" James looked up at him dully, and he muttered in an undertone, "Not that you'd know it."

"Now," he returned to his normal volume, which was undisputedly loud, "we could either annoy teachers till they snap and go tearing out of class, attempt to poison the giant squid, help, ah, _rearrange_ the books in the library, or sneak down to the kitchens!"

A reluctant smile tugged on James' face, until he realized a great flaw in the plan. "Bit boring, isn't it? I mean, we've done all that, oh, I don't know, a couple dozen times. And teachers don't go tearing out of class anymore, they just give you detention. Then when we terrorize them _during _detention–"

"I know!" Sirius gave a dramatic gasp; Remus, Peter and James rolled their eyes. "We can infiltrate Dumbledore's office..." he paused for effect, "and steal a _Time-Turner!_"

There was no response.

"What?" he demanded at the anticlimactic silence. "Does no one appreciate my brilliance?!"

"Um, Padfoot," said Lupin gently, with the air of one explaining to a child throwing a tantrum, "don't you think Dumbledore would _notice_? He's not Headmaster and a great wizard for _nothing_."

"Yeah, and you're about as brilliant as the _Gernumbli Gardensi_, but not to worry, we appreciate it, you could have turned out much worse," snickered James.

Peter Pettigrew chose this moment to cleverly add, "What's a Time-Turner?"

Sirius, whose scowl seemed to be getting more pronounced with each comment, glowered at his friends. "Okay firstly, Moony, we're Marauders, we take risks. Take off that prefect badge and don't be such a wet blanket. Secondly, James, I neither _know_ nor _care_ what _Gernumbli Gardensi _means, as long as it's nothing to do with Snivellus. And thirdly, Wormtail, _please _don't antagonize me anymore with your intellect, or lack thereof."

He glanced determinedly at each of his friends, who seemed to have been more or less swayed by his charismatic little speech.

"All right, let's do it," agreed James at last. Remus echoed him rather reluctantly while Peter nodded his consent, still contemplating Sirius' last words thoughtfully.

***

"I think you've put on some weight, James," grumbled Pettigrew some hours later. "We can't fit under this Cloak of yours anymore. I think my feet are sticking out."

"Whatever," James whispered back. "I wasn't the one who made a great big fuss about missing dinner." Peter pouted unhappily. "And can the puppy look, Wormtail, that's for dogs, not rats. You look constipated."

"Hey," interjected Sirius, "You most certainly will _not_ see that revolting look on my face. Ever."

Remus decided not to join in the argument. There were better things to do, he believed, when they were standing in front of the Headmaster's office, especially if Wormtail's feet really were sticking out. The heated dispute between the three Animagi was abruptly cut short by Professor Slughorn hurrying out of Dumbledore's office, muttering to himself.

"_Now!_" Sirius hissed, their little spat forgotten immediately.

The Messrs approached the gargoyle tentatively.

"Chocoballs?" Moony suggested hopefully. He frowned as his friends tried to stifle their laughter. "Well, if you have a better suggestion!"

"Pepper Imps?"

"Fizzing Whizzbees?"

"Jelly Slugs?"

"You have got to be kidding," James groaned as the gargoyle sprang aside. "_Jelly Slugs_? Is this guy some sort of _fanatic_?"

They tiptoed up the spiral staircase, Sirius swearing as someone trod on his foot. The circular office was thankfully deserted, the portraits of past headmasters snoring peacefully. Remus felt uneasy. This was too good to be true. Nevertheless, James had eagerly slipped off the cloak and was heading towards Dumbledore's cabinet of rare-looking instruments, and he was in no mood to dampen their spirits.

"Here it is!" James called excitedly, and they went over to join him, Sirius plucking the tiny hourglass from his hands to examine it more closely. James' attention, meanwhile, had wandered to the rest of the Headmaster's precious possessions.

"What's this?" he said interestedly, marveling at a spindly silver object as he plucked it from its shelf. "It looks delicate, and... oops!"

The ill-fated, mysterious item crashed onto the floor, proving its delicacy by accordingly splintering into a thousand irreparable shards. Sirius winced.

"_James, what in the name of Merlin's too-small underp_–"

Mercifully, Peter never finished that sentence, but the portraits were already stirring.

"_Quick, QUICK!_"

The four Marauders were out of the office and down the stairs before Armando Dippet had even opened his eyes.

***

Sirius spotted an adjacent classroom and they all scrambled in, hurriedly shutting the door behind them. Silence ensued, punctuated only by Wormtail's occasional coughs as the boys caught their breath.

"Well, we succeeded!" They could practically hear Sirius grinning in the darkness. "Let's have a look at it then... _lumos_!"

Light flared from the tip of his wand and the Marauders leaned forward, scrutinizing the abducted Time-Turner.

"C'mon, put it on," suggested James eagerly, but as he threw the fine gold chain over the four of them, they heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Remus whirled around; they seemed to be getting louder.

"I think someone's after us!" he said nervously, turning back. "We have to hide– Sirius, _what are you doing!_"

Sirius was pointing his wand at the Time-Turner, which was revolving at such a furious speed that it became a golden blur. James and Peter were looking on, transfixed; Remus was horrified.

"What do you think, I'm getting us back to before this happened! Yesterday night, or something."

Remus was still extremely suspicious. "Are you sure that's going backwards? Because I'm pretty sure clockwise is _forwards_."

"Ah, Moony, your sharpness astounds me," Sirius replied absent-mindedly. Remus swallowed, with difficulty, a yell of frustration.

"Sirius, _just how many times did you turn it?!_"

"A couple hundred thousand?" Sirius finally paused to consider this question. "Well, I don't really know, I..." The realization of what he had done finally hit home. "Oh."

And before Lupin had time to yank the chain off, cuss shockingly or smack Sirius on his shaggy head, he felt the world dissolve into blackness around him.

***

Nothing seemed to have changed when they reappeared – they were still in a dark, deserted classroom with a chain cutting into their necks and no idea what they were going to do. Moony was the first to untangle himself from the mess of limbs that belonged to the four Marauders. Without further ado, he hastily snatched the Time-Turner and stuffed it away in his robes before Sirius could send them into the next millennium.

"Owch, geroff me Prongs!" Sirius shoved his friend off him and sat up, rubbing his face blearily. "Where's the... thingy?"

Remus thrust his hands into his pockets. "No idea," he replied promptly, "we must have lost it on the way."

"Aw, shucks," said Sirius. "'Cause I'm pretty sure I could have set us back to the right time. Just, um, turn it anticlockwise, right?" He rubbed his head and frowned. "Or was it clockwise? You mentioned something, Moony."

Lupin privately thought that it was most wise of him to take possession of the Time-Turner. Aloud, he neglected to say anything, instead choosing to watch James brush himself off and inspect his surroundings.

"If you ask me, the whole thing was a failure," he sighed. "Because we're in precisely the same spot. And I'm definitely still fifteen. Same raging teenage hormones and all."

"Yeah, the kind only _you_ possess, Prongs," complained Peter, who was feeling distinctly uncharitable towards someone whose foot had been sticking in his face just seconds before.

"For once, Wormy, you're right," smirked Sirius. "Did I tell you about the time he tried to enter the girls' dormitory to look for Evans? A real riot, that was. Lots of shrieking and jinxing."

James considered himself too dignified to reply. Not enjoying the discussion of his previous exploits, he cast around for another subject. "I left my Cloak in Dumbledore's office!"

"Doesn't matter," Remus piped up. "I bet he'd have found out anyway." Sirius shot him a sullen glare. "C'mon, let's go find out just what we've got ourselves into this time."

"'This time'," mused James. "Is what time, exactly?"

And no one could quite answer that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter's up! Thanks to those who added story alerts and stuff :) (School sucks, fyi.) Please R & R okay! Thanks so much!**

The four Marauders exited the classroom cautiously, to find themselves in an empty corridor lit by flickering torches.

"Ah, Hogwarts," sighed James fondly. "Never changes, does it? Or _maybe_," he continued, eyeing Sirius beadily, "that whole Time-Turner thing was a hoax!"

"What do you mean, a _hoax_?" growled Sirius, somewhat ominously. James ignored the little voices in his head warning him of impending doom.

"Like, see, Padfoot here wants to prove his brilliance, although he doesn't seem to have any. So he takes some bogus hourglass and plants it in Dumbledore's office, and... No wait, Dumbledore was in on it as well! Gosh, Sirius sure must have been desperate. And then–"

"I'll show you desperate, you four-legged, two-horned, left-handed excuse for a human!" Sirius spluttered rather incoherently. He made to throttle his friend, who was exuding an air of smugness, but was restrained forcibly by Remus and Peter.

"If you two have quite finished!" said Lupin loudly, and the two of them looked embarrassedly at their feet, shuffling uncomfortably. _Exactly like three year olds,_ Lupin thought exasperatedly, but he continued, "I think we should find the Headmaster and get help."

"D'you think it's still Dumbledore?" asked James slightly sheepishly as they walked up the steps.

"Guess so," grinned Pettigrew. "The old man looks around a hundred and fifty and going strong, a couple of years here or there won't stop him from being Headmaster."

"Shh!" cautioned Sirius. "_Walls have ears_." And he pointed surreptitiously at the blank stone walls, leaving his friends to burst into sniggers. After a short pause, he said, "Reckon we'll get detention?"

"Of course not, it's been so many years, he won't even remember us stealing a Time Turner," declared Lupin briskly, before adding as an afterthought, "Until we barge in there and give him a pleasant reminder."

"Or," muttered Sirius darkly, "he could have been planning for this moment for the last few years, just waiting for us to show up. There must be _something_ he does for recreation."

They approached the stone gargoyle. It was like déjà vu, standing in front of the statue once again, with the same poorly concealed anticipation.

"Chocolate frogs," suggested Lupin half-heartedly, and was surprised when the gargoyle shifted to let them pass.

"It's always about the chocolate, isn't it, Moony," snickered Sirius.

Remus couldn't think of a dignified retort, so he ended up murmuring, "It... does help against... Dementors... and... other things." In his smallest voice yet, he whispered guiltily, "And... it tastes really good."

Then they were at the top of the staircase, and as predicted, Albus Dumbledore was standing there, his beard perhaps a bit whiter, but otherwise exactly the same. He did not look one bit shocked to see them, something which Sirius seemed to be rather put out by. He had been hoping for an incredulous gasp, at least, maybe even some hand-wringing or grasping of tufts of hair. But such actions would hardly befit the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Instead, his piercing, light blue eyes travelled over the four boys, resting just a fraction longer on Peter and James. Then he gave his usual, benign smile.

"I was wondering when you four would arrive," he said. "Quite the trick you played there, Sirius. Though I must confess, it would have been even more impressive had I not been earlier informed by, ah, a trusted source." Looking amused at Sirius' infuriated expression, he motioned for them to sit down.

"Sir," Lupin began hesitantly, "What year are we in, precisely?"

"That, Remus," Dumbledore replied with the customary habit of not actually giving a reply, "is a question that will be answered very shortly."

And as he spoke the words, three students appeared from the stairwell. One had a freckled face and a mop of ginger hair, while the girl in the middle had brown and somewhat bushy curls. The last boy was the most interesting, for he had messy black hair and clear green eyes, not to mention a scar on his forehead.

It was to this newcomer that Sirius pointed. Nudging James, he said in a loud, carrying whisper, "Hey, that one looks a whole lot like you, James! You could be twins! What's your name, kid?" he asked cheerfully.

The boy's mouth was now hanging open; he seemed incapable of speech. Instead, the girl answered for him, in an odd, high-pitched voice. "He... he's Harry. Harry Potter."

"Well, what d'you know!" enthused Sirius. "Same surname too! What a coincidence. You two must be fated to meet!"

Dimwitted, Remus decided, was the word for it.

Instead of voicing this blunt opinion, however, he turned to the Headmaster. "Professor, this... is James' son?" The apparent father-to-be spun around, absolutely dumbstruck. Dumbledore beamed at both of them.

"Most astute, Remus," he praised, and behind him the girl gasped softly in realisation. "James, Sirius, Peter, Remus, I'd like you to meet Harry, Ronald and Hermione. They're in their fifth year as well."

They all shook hands awkwardly, but Harry and James were staring at each other, as if in slight awe. "Hi, um, dad," he mumbled.

James felt that this greeting was extremely weird, especially as they were around the same age, but he was saved the trouble of responding by Sirius, who seemed abnormally buoyant.

"So, Headmaster, what are we doing now?" he said, practically bouncing around the office. Dumbledore looked, with some concern, at the cabinet which they had pilfered such a short, or rather, long, time ago. "I mean, the me of the future. Am I rich? Famous? Exceedingly sought after?"

"You," said Dumbledore, checking his watch, "should currently be at home alone."

"Not married off to old Moony here yet, then," smirked James.

Remus cringed. "I... don't exactly find that sort of statement funny," he complained.

But Sirius wasn't listening. "When you say 'home'," he frowned seeming to deflate like a punctured balloon, "you don't mean Grimmauld place, do you?"

Dumbledore inclined his head apologetically. "I'm afraid I do, Sirius."

"Why would I go back there," demanded Sirius furiously, "when my mother took up Shouting At Sirius as a sport, and when everywhere I looked it was silver and green, till I nearly went colour blind!" And he glared accusingly at Dumbledore, seeking an explanation.

Perhaps the old Professor would have replied; however, the one named Ronald chose this moment to interrupt crossly, "What are we, calefare?" From the crumpled robes and tousled hair, Remus guessed they had been roused from bed.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, Mr Weasley," said Dumbledore, but there seemed to be a twinkle in his eye. "Well then, I'm sure you're all eager to get back to sleep. And by the way, for now, I think it would suffice to tell the rest of the school that you are new students. Shuffle along!"

There was a sort of firmness to the abrupt way he ended the meeting; no one quite dared to protest. Harry had remained utterly silent – his eyes were still darting from his ex-Professor to his godfather, to his father, and lastly to the one who had betrayed them all.

"You're a Weasley, huh," remarked Pettigrew to Ron, who started. "Molly and Arthur were ahead of us by a few years, they eloped straight after graduation." Ron could think of nothing to say to this extraordinary pronouncement, so Peter continued, "Still, don't think you'd follow in their footsteps, 'specially if you haven't found someone."

Ron chanced a hopeful look at Hermione, who was too busy sneaking her own sidelong glances at Remus and James to notice. Disappointed, he made a strangled noise and Peter wisely dropped the subject.

"_Mimbulus mimbletonia_," Hermione hastily said as they approached the Fat Lady, but before they could swing their legs over the portrait hole, a cold drawl that all seven of them recognized made them stop in their tracks.

"Well, well," came the familiar sneer. "Not one, but seven Gryffindor students out after curfew. Who did you Confund to join your little gang, Potter?" Harry and James both instinctively tried to turn, but were held back by their friends. "Quite a disaster for the Gryffindor hourglass, isn't it? But don't worry, I daresay we'll find a way to display _negative points_."

Harry freed himself and twisted round ferociously. Even though it was dark, there was no mistaking the dark shape looming out of the shadows, nor the pronounced, hooked nose that was probably the most prominent thing on his thin face.

"I'm sorry, _sir_," he said, voice dripping with contempt, "I didn't realize it was you, I thought it was one of those bats tested with Engorgement charms gone terribly wrong."

Professor Severus Snape, for of course it was he, had his wand out in an instant, pointing at a defiant Harry.

"You do not _ever_ speak to me like that, Potter," he snarled, "You're exactly like your father, as arrogant and–"

"Intelligent?" came a voice, and it was Snape's turn to freeze.

"Potter," he breathed disbelievingly.

"That's right, Snivelly, and just because you're uglier and greasier than ever, doesn't mean we can't show the world what a dirty little oddball you are."

Snape's beetle black eyes were now roving over the other six, stunned faces. He seemed to shudder with revulsion and loathing, then swiftly turned heel and disappeared down the dark passageway, undoubtedly making for Dumbledore's office, as confused as the Marauders had been.

"Thanks," Harry said, almost shyly, and James nodded gruffly. Before any more unpleasant surprises could be sprung, they quickly clambered in and, bidding goodnight to Hermione, disappeared into the boy's dormitory, where four new beds had thoughtfully appeared.

"Uh, Harry?" asked Remus softly, unsure whether the boy was awake. "Dumbledore didn't tell us in the end... what year is it?"

There was a short pause, and then the answer came. "1995, Profes– Remus."

Silence fell after this and Remus was left awake, staring into the blackness.

_1995, _he thought_. Looks to be an eventful year ahead._


	3. Chapter 3

**Just to clarify, this isn't slash! :) Maybe implied sometimes (strictly for fun, hm), but definitely not slash. But please review! TYVM LOVE YOU ALL.**

"Moony..._ Moony..._"

Remus moaned at the sound of his nickname and buried himself deeper into the sheets, trying to block out the irritating voice, only to receive a painful jab in the ribs in return. On impulse, he lashed out blindly and his fist connected with a very shaggy head.

A loud swear followed suit.

With utmost reluctance, he forced open his eyes, only to find Sirius' face looming in front of him, grinning manically. He hurriedly decided it was not the best time to appear vulnerable and sat upright, massaging his fingers. The expression on Sirius' face was enough to set his nerves on edge – he looked like a man who had just done something terribly _wrong_.

Instinctively, Remus checked that all his appendages were still present.

"I don't suppose you knew you had a very thick skull," he grumbled. "And I was wondering why you never seem to learn anything. Anything useful, that is. Not to mention anything kind, or pleasant, or academically inclined at all."

"Don't mutter to yourself, Moony!" was Sirius' bright reply. "C'mon, rise and shine, you should be prepared to meet our new old school head-on!"

"Nice oxymoron," commented James snidely. He was automatically rumpling his hair as he lounged casually on the four-poster bed.

"No need for that, James, there're only boys here, unless you've taken an interest in them as well," sighed Remus, instinctively reaching for his trunk for a chocolate bar to cheer him up, before he realized he was groping in thin air. He groaned loudly.

"Who's the moron?" demanded Sirius, his cerebral functions having appeared to finally catch up with his surroundings. James ignored him rather determinedly; Remus had a feeling he knew the obvious answer to Sirius' question as well.

"Since I'm awake now," began Remus, and here he paused to glower at Sirius, "we might as well go down to eat. You were the one who wanted to check out the place, and I'm hungry," he added ruefully, suddenly thinking wistfully of Honeydukes.

***

The new boys were eliciting a great deal of excitement, and not just from the Gryffindor table – Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students seemed to be taking a long detour back to their benches, shooting furtive glances at the Marauders as they leisurely strolled by. James and Sirius seemed pleased by the attention; Pettigrew looked slightly flustered; Remus, on the other hand, seemed ill-at-ease. He turned to Harry, who was munching a piece of toast and look preoccupied. Remus had initially planned to wait for him to finish chewing, but after about five minutes with no progress, he gave up.

"Harry, if you could swallow that mouthful..."

"Huh?" He started and looked around wildly. "Oh, sorry, I wasn't actually, uh, chewing anything."

Remus was too tactful to pursue the issue.

"We seem to be attracting a lot of attention, and I was just wondering whether we're, y'know, well-known in this time, or something." Remus looked around surreptitiously as he said this. Across him, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were giggling furiously, eyeing James, Sirius and himself hopefully. He heard the words "Professor" and "much younger", but dismissed the rest as incoherent raving.

In doing so, he was quite right.

Finally, they managed to escape the crowded Great Hall, seeking the refuge of the lake when even Sirius and James were overcome by all the attention.

This, in itself, was no mean feat.

They threw themselves down by the water's edge, Remus looking rather irate.

"Great start, isn't it?" grinned Sirius. "Maybe the _Daily Prophet_ will read 'Students Shoot to Fame in One Hour', or 'Record Number of Marriage Propos–'"

"_Or_, it might say 'Heads Overinflated in Record Time – Cause Unknown'," countered Remus sourly. This uncharacteristically unflattering remark made his three friends look up, surprised and slightly guilty.

"C'mon, Moony, it was just for fun!" wheedled Sirius, trying to placate his friend.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Just like brewing Amortentia was 'just for fun', huh?"

Sirius remembered their disastrous attempt at making a Love Potion, during which James, their self-volunteered test subject, had to be forcefully restrained from kissing his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. He winced at the memory.

"That, ah, _fiasco _was completely different!" he declared. "And besides, we all knew it was only a matter of time before Prongs went overboard with the narcissism, he had it coming."

"Anyway, we don't need that kind of thing," said James dismissively, disregarding Black's last sentence.

"Don't be so sure," smirked Peter, "I think Lily might need a dose. A couple of doses, actually, since it's you." James glowered balefully.

"Yeah, the way she goes on about you," sighed Sirius dreamily, "it's like you're one of those swollen, disemboweled horned toads we stew in Potions. Romantic, isn't it."

This insightful conversation was interrupted by a light, faraway voice.

"I'd be careful if I were you, there are Gulping Plimpies in the lake," said Luna Lovegood from behind them, nodding serenely at the Marauders.

"Right, we'll bear that in mind, thank you," said James with a straight face, before doubling over with laughter. When stifled at last, he promptly decided that it had been a most embarrassing show of impoliteness, and hence compensated by turning a bright shade of red.

The blonde girl didn't seem perturbed, for she sat down on the grass next to them, observing each face curiously with protuberant eyes. Rather taken aback by this new development, the boys awkwardly looked away.

Remus was wracking his brain to see if he had ever heard of the "Gulping Plimpies" in question. This was exceedingly unlikely.

He also very much doubted that orange radish earrings were, or would ever be, in fashion.

"You know, you look a lot like one of our old Professors," she said after a moment, directing the remark to him. "If he were around twenty years younger, I think you two would be identical."

There was no answer, so she continued, "He taught us Defence Against the Dark Arts two years ago. I think he was very nice. Not like Professor Umbridge, who sent me out of class just now because I told her there was a Wrackspurt about to float into her ear. They make your brain go fuzzy," she added informatively.

"Anyway, a lot of people liked him, but Professor Snape told us he was a werewolf, so he left."

And suddenly, everyone was staring at Lupin, whose heart was throbbing wildly, his head spinning.

"Remus..." began Peter, but he sprang up.

"I need to see the Headmaster," he mumbled distractedly, and hastened off in the direction of the castle. The others were left staring at his vacated spot, dumbfounded, with the exception of Luna.

"Does he know Professor Lupin?" she enquired interestedly. "I understand why he's upset, though personally I never thought being a werewolf was a big deal. People can be rather prejudiced sometimes, can't they?"

"You," James said rather hoarsely, "have _no _idea."

***

"Well, well, another visit!" Dumbledore seemed pleased. "I suppose your timetables haven't quite been sorted out yet?"

The sandy-haired boy nodded, then the words came tumbling out of his mouth. "Sir, was I a Professor here, a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, and did... did Snape really tell the entire school that I was... am... a..."

He bit his lip and looked on the verge of tears; Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder and gently led him to his chair. Then he took his seat opposite Remus.

"Do not concern yourself with things that haven't come to pass, Remus," he smiled kindly, "because though you may be in the future, your present self is still only fifteen."

"But I _know_ it's going to happen, so why would I even come–"

"And that, Remus, is precisely why it is a very dangerous thing for any wizard, even one as powerful as I, if you forgive the moment of self-indulgence, to meddle in such things. But do not blame your friend Sirius, he thought it was a highly amusing prank, and I must agree." His eyes twinkled. "No doubt he did not realize the more serious implications it might have."

"Sirius doesn't _know_ 'serious'," Moony grimaced. "You'd never find two words that sound so alike and yet are the _absolute opposite_ of each other."

"Well put," beamed Dumbledore, "but back to the point – regardless of what Severus did or did not do, your life will go on, which explains why your future self is still... very much alive."

_That was a comfort_, thought Remus drily, but did cheer up sufficiently to flash a somewhat watery grin.

"What about James, Sirius and Peter? They're still my best friends, right?"

Dumbledore paused, then said, "I'm sure they have been, and always will be, your friends, deep inside."

And Remus gave no further thought to the matter.

***

"Moony! You're back!" roared Sirius as Remus stepped through the portrait hole. "How was reminiscing about your future past?"

"I'm past reminiscing about my future," was Remus' wan response. "Why aren't all of you asleep, anyway?"

"Well, that's great, because no one likes it when you're all melancholy and unfathomable and deep," chuckled James from the armchair by the fire. "And to answer your question, we were staying up late to see the Moon."

"Very funny," snapped Remus, then the portrait swung open again and Harry entered the common room, looking mutinous and rubbing the back of his hand.

"Harry!" greeted Sirius enthusiastically, while an embarrassed expression appeared on James face once again. "Where've you been, it's past midnight!"

"Um, detention with Umbridge," he mumbled, and pushed past them to the dormitories. Sirius' cheerful expression faded.

"What's up with him?" he demanded. "He makes it sound like detention is a _bad _thing!"

"That's because it is, Sirius," sighed Lupin tiredly.

"Personally," piped up James importantly, "I find it most exciting to destroy all our teachers' possessions while doing detention." He paused, then added proudly, "I can write lines with my left hand and wave my wand with my right!"

"I thought we promised to start the year well," reminded Lupin pointedly.

"Well, yes, you have a point," agreed Sirius thoughtfully. "_But_, since it's no longer the year we promised to start well, it no longer holds! We're in an absolutely different time, see, and circumstances change."

And for once, Sirius was speaking sense.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi guys, am currently facing a huge writer's block and therefore this chapter probably isn't very good. (It's really hard to even churn out the grammar. Feels like plowing through custard.) But thanks for reading anyway! Love you allllllll :D**

There was no way to avoid lessons the next day; Professor McGonagall had thoughtfully placed timetables by their bedsides, with a postscript adding that they were indestructible and that they were not to try Vanishing, Modifying or Destroying it. Remus rather thought there might be a reason why the last word was capitalized, despite it not being a sort of spell in itself.

He glanced at the gentle reminder again, which happened to be capitalized, italicized, underlined, and then bolded in a large red font.

This, however, seemed to be an underestimation of Sirius' dogged perseverance, and an overestimation of his intellect, because he yelled "_incendio!_" with all his might, and cremated the hangings of his four-poster bed for his effort.

James, wrinkling his nose at the burning smell, was running his fingers through already messy hair, frowning.

"Today we have Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Astronomy! Can you believe that, first period and we're stuck with old Snivelly already.'

"Great," groaned Peter, "He should have been caretaker, not that filthy Filch. Or was it filchy Filth? Anyway, he could have shined the suits of armour, he's a self-sufficient grease factory."

"Well, you're probably right there," mused James. "Anyway, let's go for breakfast, I'm starved."

"Strange," grinned Sirius, "I wasn't under the impression that you'd want to go to Potions on a full stomach. Still," he admitted, "at least there's a cauldron to puke in right in front of you." He turned to the smoldering wreck that was clearly beyond any repair and sighed.

"Can I exchange beds with you tonight, Moony? Pretty please?"

***

"Old Snivelly", as he was endearingly nicknamed by his, er, ex-classmates, was most displeased with the first class of the day. It comprised a motley crew of Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and – his eyes narrowed with distaste – a small gang of Gryffindors. All of whom, unfortunately, were imbeciles with the more-than-slight tendency to cause dangerously large explosions in class.

He tried his best to ignore Black, who had propped his feet up on the table, inches from the Potions Masters' robes.

Those robes in question were spotlessly clean. Not that you could tell. (There was a reason why he always wore black.) If he _dared_ to sully them...

"Today, we will be brewing an antidote that will cure most venoms," Snape began smoothly, pointedly looking over a certain shaggy head. "Or should I say, attempting to brew – it is a relatively straightforward recipe that you should be able to follow, if you were, say, all not woefully inadequate dunces that cannot differentiate clockwise from counterclockwise."

Sirius glanced at Remus slightly guiltily.

"If there are no questions, you may begin. Don't touch that, Avery, personally, I'd hate to see your fingers blister and turn purple."

The sympathy in his voice wouldn't have convinced Draco Malfoy, who wasn't much of an expert on sympathy himself; nevertheless, Avery hurriedly pulled his hand away from what looked suspiciously like Bobotuber pus.

The lesson was easy for James, Sirius and Remus – Peter kept watching James and copying his actions. The only problem was that he was not very adept at this either; twice, he sliced his finger while peering over at James cutting his roots, then emptied half the newts' tails he was supposed to stew onto the floor. As he scrambled to pick them up, the crisp swish of a cloak announced Snape's arrival.

"A most stunning display of ineptitude, Pettigrew," he sneered. "Not least because your antidote is a disgusting, rat-grey colour." Peter tried to ignore the allusion, although he was sweating profusely. "Tell me, does anything I say penetrate the layers of stupidity and foolishness wrapped around your empty skull? Or were you too busy fawning over your friend Potter, as the other depraved, mental patients do?"

Peter's face was the same colour as his potion; James, on the other hand, smirked widely.

"No need to be jealous, Snivellus," he drawled smugly. "I'll bet you're still all alone, friendless and _revolting_."

Snape sallow face twitched furiously, his hands balling into fists. He dearly, desperately wanted to break Potter's nose.

James wasn't finished. He knew that teachers didn't punch their students, even if they dearly, desperately wanted to.

"And what happened to you and Evans? Did you get tired of forcing her to hang around? Or did you just do something wrong, like wipe your overlarge nose on her?"

Snape control was stretched to breaking point. A revelation on Potter's part here might be helpful. Maybe that he was dead, his son was an orphan and that Snape would _never, ever _wipe his overlarge nose on Evans. But Dumbledore had sworn him to secrecy. (Except for the last point, and he refused to stoop so low.)

So, with much difficulty, he remained silent, except for a horrible choking noise in the back of his throat.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Potter," he said finally, lips curling. "It looks like you're set to rival your... ah, _son, _in the race to leave Gryffindor with an empty hourglass. Keep up the good work." Turning to Peter, he added coldly, "Don't bother submitting your potion, Pettigrew. I don't want to handle such rubbish. You have a 'T' for this assignment, and a most deserving grade it is."

And away he swept, determinedly ignoring the retching sounds Sirius was making behind his back.

***

"That didn't go well, did it?" Lupin remarked casually as they walked down the corridor.

"On the contrary, Moony, it couldn't have gone better," corrected James. "Did you see Snivellus' face when I _accidentally_ poured my flask over him?"

"I think his robes were clean," said Sirius, sighing regretfully. "Not that you could tell."

They turned the corner and were most affronted to see a decidedly squat figure dressed in frilly, shocking pink.

"_What_," asked Sirius in revulsion, "is _that_?"

"That," came Hermione's disapproving voice from over his shoulder, "is your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"_Ew._"

They walked into class, sniggering. Dolores Umbridge cast an appraising eye over the four new boys.

They didn't look like promising material.

"Children, please turn to page one hundred and thirty-nine. Wands away. There will be no need to talk."

"Oh, but there _is_ a need, Professor," came a loud drawl from James. "You see, we do need a change from a croaking toad from time to time."

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr..." she trailed off when James neglected to respond. "Make that fifteen points."

Next, her gaze found the tawny-haired boy.

"My dear boy," she simpered, "your robes are awful, I'm afraid. Five points from Gryffindor for the bad impression you'll give others. Now, I'm sure your parents can always apply for financial aid from the Ministry, the poor things."

Remus bit his lip but Sirius snorted derisively.

"Ah, old hag, go stick your wand up your–"

The loud gasp, and some muffled snickers, drowned out the last word. Umbridge, however, had caught the gist of it.

She needed to buy more of those detention quills.

***

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Hermione turned to find Remus looking slightly apprehensive. She glanced at the rest of the Marauders (who were miming something rather offensive) and nodded. They surreptitiously sidled away from the group.

"Can I help you, Prof– Er, Remus?"

"It's okay, Hermione, I know," he said, and she gave a soft "oh!" of surprise.

Remus supposed it was surprising for her to _not_ know something.

"I would have asked Harry and Ronald, but since they're busy..."

Busy joining in the offensive miming, no doubt.

"I've heard of Dolores Umbridge in our time, wasn't she at the Ministry?"

"She still is," sniffed Hermione. "And the Ministry is now at Hogwarts too, albeit in the form of an absolutely hopeless frog."

"Toad, actually," grinned Lupin briefly, but then his expression sobered. "I had the impression she didn't like... near human creatures, that sort of thing."

Hermione caught his grimace. "It's all right, Remus, she won't find out about you, we'll speak to Professor Dumbledore!" she hastily assured him. "And you're _not _a 'near human creature' or any of the rubbish, you're just..."

"Occasionally furry?" smirked Sirius, appearing from behind them. "Where did you two run off to, we thought Umbridge had kidnapped you!"

"Oh yes, and you look worried," commented Hermione dryly.

"Well, since you're not being tortured by the Evil Pink One, what were you doing?" asked James.

Remus cleared his throat and said nothing. James looked astonished.

"You were _snogging_ her, weren't you, Moony! I'd never have thought we'd live to see that day!" Remus opened his mouth but James patted him on the shoulder. "It's all right, don't be ashamed! I mean, personally I thought if you snogged anyone it'd be, y'know, but..."

"I WAS TALKING TO HER, OKAY?!" bellowed Lupin quite suddenly, and everyone froze in shock. He then looked embarrassed at his outburst and compensated by making for the next classroom at a furious speed.

The six remaining students watched him go.

"You shouldn't poke your nose in where it doesn't belong, you know," said Hermione matter-of-factly. "Sometimes I think you're exactly like Harry."

"Hey!" protested Harry. "I don't do that! It's Ron, he's the one who tries to find out about you and Krum– I mean, er, well..."

Hermione glared at Ron, whose ears were so red they looked as if they were going to explode. She made a sudden about-turn and stalked off after Remus. Harry was trying – and failing – to put on a chagrined expression, and Ron looked rather like an overripe tomato.

"Ah well," said James, putting his arm around Sirius. "This means you've still got a chance with him, eh, Padfoot?"


	5. Chapter 5

**HA HA, my computer is REPAIRED. I like this chapter, though it's short. And it has more drama than usual (that's sort of new for me), so review and tell me if you like it or, well, want to bang your head against the wall in great agony. Suggestions would be nice, too (: Thanks!**

"You know what I want?" asked James, leaning back in his armchair and stretching magnificently.

"Lily Evans?" suggested Sirius helpfully. "The way you go on about her..."

Harry cleared his throat loudly, as if to subtly remind them that he wasn't quite comfortable with his father fantasizing about his mother just yet.

Remus caught the drift; however, he knew the best way to convey this message to Sirius was via a painful kick in the shin.

Sirius just didn't do "subtle", after all.

James mercilessly cut across the resultant stream of corrupting profanities. "No, Padfoot, I was going to say _Quidditch_. But you do show surprising insight on your part."

"Harry's Seeker," piped up Ron, then continued more uncertainly, "and I'm Keeper."

While this news was about a week old, James and Sirius weren't very concerned with things that didn't revolve around themselves.

"Well, both of you must be spiffing good!" grinned James. "Fantastic and all! The best! In fact,  
he added thoughtfully, "maybe almost as good as me!"

Remus could sometimes picture himself puncturing James' inflated head with a pin and watching it deflate like a balloon as his ego leaked out with a hiss.

He'd never tried that before.

"Since you two are on the team, you must have brooms, eh?" James was saying enthusiastically. "Excellent! Grab them and we can all have a go."

***

Twenty minutes later, the boys found themselves at the pitch, Hermione having claimed that she had unfinished homework.

No one believed her.

"I _knew_ there had to be _something_ old Hermy wasn't good at," remarked James breezily. "C'mon, Harry, let your er, _dad_, try out your broom!"

Supposing this would be the closest he'd ever get to a polite request, Harry obliged.

"James was Chaser," smiled Remus as they watched him zoom around in the air, whooping ecstatically. "And that's a really good broomstick, Harry."

He watched as James came flying towards them at a furious speed, crashed headlong into Sirius and sent both of them sprawling into the dirt at the other end of the pitch.

"It's very fast, isn't it?" he continued mildly, raising his eyebrows.

"So this is a _Firebolt_, eh?" asked Sirius, rubbing his head whilst examining the polished handle. "Bloody dangerous thing almost killed me. Which _idiot_ bought it for you?!"

Harry cleared his throat.

"My godfather."

"Well, wait till I find this 'godfather' of yours, I'll have something to say to him about deadly broomsticks," growled Sirius. He stared as Ron stifled a snort of laughter. "_What?!"_

***

"How was Quidditch?" asked Hermione somewhat waspishly an hour later.

"Great!" exclaimed Ron, eagerly reaching for the sausages. "I think I've really improved!"

"Yeah, Hermione, Ron here didn't fall off the broom at all!" grinned James. "At least," he added, shooting the Weasley a furtive glance, "after the first half an hour, he didn't."

"_What?!_" Hermione demanded. "Ron, honestly!"

"Better than someone who borrowed Quidditch Through the Ages six times and still couldn't say 'Up!' to her broom," muttered Ron sourly, now violently emptying the contents of the ketchup bottle onto his plate.

"If you've finished discussing such trivialities," said Hermione with a sniff, "I have something important to talk about!"

And she gave her two friends a pointed glance.

"Um, it's just spew, really," said Harry quickly, though he furrowed his brow at Hermione.

"_SPEW?!_"

"It's _not '_spew', Sirius! It's... oh, never mind!"

The Marauders watched curiously as they forcefully removed Ron's grip on his plate and half-dragged him away, ignoring his protests of wasting food.

"They look shifty," observed James thoughtfully. "Who knows what trouble they're going to get themselves into? Especially since I definitely heard something about _spew_."

"My thoughts exactly, Prongs," agreed Sirius, clapping James on the back. "And so, for their sake, to prevent them from making a _serious _error in judgment, we should follow them!"

"And eavesdrop."

"Yes, that too."

Remus finally spoke up, eyeing the three retreating backs.

"Maybe we shouldn't. After all, there _is _something objectionable about spying on people, you know."

James and Sirius turned in unison and stared.

"Guys, I can't let you get away with this sort of stuff every time!" Remus protested falteringly.

Sirius smirked.

"Oh, no?"

"But I suppose this round is... pardonable," he moaned miserably.

***

"This can't go on, Harry! It's not right!"

Hermione shut the door of the empty classroom and spun to face her best friends.

"Why not?" asked Ron. "They're great fun! How many times do you get to see your ex-Professor the same age and height as you? It's downright cool, Hermione, seeing him having to sit through all our awful lessons. And besides, this is Harry's chance to, well, get to know his..." he trailed off, looking uncertainly at Harry.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I really am!" cried Hermione desperately. "I know how much you miss your father, but bad things happen to wizards who meddle with time! You know that from the disaster two years ago!"

"Well, we got out of that fine, didn't we?" said Harry impatiently. He looked straight at Hermione, who cringed under his hard stare. "You _don't_ know," he said quietly. "You don't know what it's like to be without parents."

***

"Moony, I want you to walk nonchalantly down the corridor, and see which room they're in," whispered James to his reluctant friend.

"James, why do you _do_ this to me?"

"Because you look like a goody-two-shoes, no one will suspect you."

He was the first person to proclaim a werewolf a goody-two-shoes.

He was also the last.

Remus received a hard push and found himself walking, quite against his will, down the passageway, pressing his ear to each door until he heard heated voices in the deserted Charms classroom.

***

Hermione bit her lip, looking on the verge of tears. "Harry... _if_ they ever found out, how do you think they would react?!" The boy remained silent, leaving her to plough on. "If _you _came to the future, only to find out you were–"

"Dead?" interrupted Harry brusquely. "Betrayed by someone they thought was their close friend? Yeah, I'd be pretty upset, too."

"That's not all, Harry! What if they decided never to get married because they'd give birth to you?! What would happen to the present you?! What if they lost reason and tried to do in Pettigrew right now?!"

"Cut to the chase, will you, and tell me what you want to do," snarled Harry harshly.

"Send them back," pleaded Hermione, positively terrified by Harry's stony expression. "Dumbledore will be able to do that, and – and Modify their memories."

***

"Hey, Moony!" came the impatient whisper, and his eyes flickered to the three heads cautiously extended around the corner. "Why's your head been stuck to that bloody door for so long?! Are they in there?"

***

"Just... just do whatever you want, okay?"

His breathing was harsh, ragged, as if he'd just sprinted a mile, desperately trying to outrun the sense behind the girl's words that he never wanted to hear.

He couldn't stand looking at her anymore, watching the tears trickle down her pale cheeks. Striding towards the door, he reached determinedly for the handle.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered again to his turned back. "But... we're not meant to bring back the dead."

***

Finally, _finally,_ Sirius caught the stricken expression on his friend's face.

"Remus?"

***

The heavy oak door swung open with a creak, and Harry walked straight into his ex-Professor, who was standing there, frozen, staring numbly at them, his face a deathly white and an indescribable look of shock, horror and grief written plainly upon his features.


	6. Chapter 6

**Whoa, thanks for all the alerts and favourites, and reviews :D (I've just finished my term tests so I'm a bit the DEPRESSED.) I kinda forced this chapter out, so it's a bit awful, sorry. Do review, though, cos I'll be eternally grateful xD**

"I don't get why you won't tell us, Moony," said James, with a hurt look that would have convinced, well, no one.

"Won't tell you what?" mumbled Remus, too preoccupied to really make an effort at feigning ignorance.

Sirius walked over to where Remus was seated by the fireplace and knelt so they were at eye level.

"Moony," he said seriously, "you looked really upset this afternoon. Even worse than after you transform into a huge, man-eating monster. Y'know, we're your friends, you can confide in us."

Remus felt nervous, not least because Sirius was actually showing some concern.

"Er, thanks, Padfoot, but it's really nothing."

Sirius sighed. "Well, if that won't work..."

He casually turfed his friend out of the armchair, and began jabbing him hard in the ribs.

"Owch– Ow– Sirius– Padf– Ow– Stop it, you stupid mutt!"

Remus sank back against the wall, panting and glaring at the other boy, who shrugged innocently.

"I asked nicely, but you wouldn't say!"

"Rather a quick change of tactics, though," snapped Remus, albeit with no real vehemence. "Look, I _want _to tell you, but–"

"You can't?" snickered James. "I think that's what you said before we found out you were a werewolf, Moony. And what happened after that?" He snapped his fingers in mock realization. "Oh, _yes, _we became Animagus, just for you!"

"Yeah," chimed in Peter, "and I felt like there were whiskers tickling me for weeks after that. Not to mention the fleas."

"This time is... different," said Remus uncomfortably. "It's kind of... a secret."

"Oh, then we promise we'll keep it that way," assured Sirius with a winning smile that left Remus all the more discomfited.

"We swear," added James solemnly.

"Absolutely," agreed Peter.

"The last time you promised, swore and were absolute about it, we ended up losing two hundred points for Gryffindor," reminded Remus.

"_And _got stuck shoveling dragon dung for Herbology for half the term," said Sirius brightly. "But this time _is_ different. By a couple of decades, actually. So we'll be completely mum."

Despite being cornered by three relatively dangerous people, Remus just couldn't tell them the truth.

What he _could_ tell them was that he still had the Time-Turner, that they were to put it on immediately, go back, and pretend this never happened.

Then again, he couldn't tell them that, either.

"Well if you _promise _not to say a word..." he began slowly. The other Marauders nodded eagerly.

"I really didn't want to bring this up, but," he sighed, "Hermione has a crush on someone."

"WHAT?! HERMIONE HAS A CRUSH? REALLY? WHO IS IT?"

So much for quiet, Remus thought dryly.

"Sirius, you buffoon," hissed James impatiently, whacking his friend straight in his big mouth, "shut up!" Turning to Moony, he continued in a loud whisper, "So, who is it? Spill the beans, Moony!"

"Er, I don't know," confessed Remus, truthfully this time (though if he had to venture a guess, he'd say Ronald Weasley).

James groaned, disappointed.

"And I was so looking forward to blackmailing her about it! Making her bully Slytherin first-years and give us the password to the prefect's bathroom!"

"Not to mention help us get up the stairs to the girls' dormitory," grinned Sirius, earning himself another knock on the head to clear any corrupted thoughts.

Remus, watching his friends' reactions, really couldn't believe they'd been taken in so easily. They may not have been famed for their brilliance and shrewdness (they weren't Slytherins, after all, or even smart Gryffindors), but this... just left him feeling even guiltier and unhappier.

It was like a mark of their absolute trust in him that they had posed not one question about his hugely false claim.

There'd be repercussions, that was for sure.

***

"Sirius," asked Hermione uncertainly, "why– why are you looking at me like that?"

Remus, who had been trying to avoid looking at the trio, snuck a sidelong glance at Sirius, only to find a very creepy grin plastered on the boy's face, accompanied by positively gleaming eyes that were fixated on Hermione.

He nudged his friend. Hard.

"Ow, Moony, what'd you do that for?!" Sirius demanded indignantly.

"I didn't do anything, I was just shifting my elbow," hissed Remus, gritting his teeth. He could feel Harry's eyes boring into the side of his head.

Bending even lower he pretended to be interested in the dinner on his plate, and pushed it around listlessly with his fork.

"Hermione," began Sirius, and Remus clenched his knife so hard it began to shake, "I heard – from a confidential source, of course – that you have a cr–"

"Oh, Sirius, I just remembered that you have homework to do!" announced Remus loudly.

Sirius looked around in confusion.

"No, I don't have–"

"Yes, you do," said Remus firmly. "You know you have unfinished homework. You never do have finished homework, anyway. Come on."

He hauled his friend up and dragged him away.

"Whassup with Moony?" asked James thickly, trying to fit half a boiled potato into his mouth.

Peter shrugged but Hermione stood up abruptly, swinging her bag over her shoulder and nearly decapitating her ginger-headed friend.

"Oh, I just remembered that I have homework to do!" she said shrilly, and dashed out of the Great Hall as well.

"And what's up with _her_?" demanded James. "She never does have unfinished homework, you know."

***

So, he hadn't told them. She hadn't really expected him to. But if they carried on shooting each other furtive looks and being oddly distant, even James Potter was sure to suspect something.

Hermione hesitated for a fraction of a second as the Fat Lady swung open, then stepped in.

Sirius was seated in the nearest armchair, looking disgruntled. His quill, ink, and Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook were on the table, but for some obscure reason, the parchment was completely blank. Remus was standing next to him, casting him stern glances every few seconds. His eyes darted to the portrait hole as she entered.

"R – Remus, um, d'you want to talk?"

Her voice was quavering.

He nodded brusquely and they left together, ignoring the way Sirius' face lit up.

"I –"

"You should have told me," he said coldly.

"But I –"

"It would be better than having it sprung on us suddenly like that!" The frustration, shock and hurt came pouring out. "Sirius thinks this is some sort of big joke. James' biggest concern is how to eat the biggest potato in the shortest amount of time, when he should be worrying about being dead! And Peter –"

Remus' voice cracked and he kicked the wall angrily. Hermione fleetingly wondered if she'd dare to reach out and comfort him. Her ex-Professor had never lost his composure before, and for a wild moment she thought she had seen the wolf inside him flare behind his grey eyes.

"I'm sorry, Remus," she said finally. "I suppose... I'd never planned for such a scenario. But for people like – like you to suddenly turn up out of nowhere, you just can't – can't tell them straightaway that they're... gone. How to react, what to do... It's not something you can write in a daily planner, or draw up a schedule for."

He hastily rubbed his eyes and bit his lip, suddenly feeling ashamed at his outburst.

"So... what are we going to do?" he mumbled.

"See the Headmaster," she declared. "He'll know what to do. And Harry – Harry already gave me... permission to..."

Her sentence trailed off into a sigh.

When they reentered the common room, Sirius was appeared to be dozing peacefully, mouth half-open as he murmured something about 'Hermy has crush'.

Remus grinned as he prodded his friend awake. Sirius shot bolt upright, spun around, and asked very wittily,

"Buh?"

"May I ask why your essay in the fire?"

"Huh? Oh, that." Sirius looked at the curling, blackened parchment and waved his arm airily. "I don't know! I strolled over, a spark just _jumped_ onto the paper and it caught fire! I have absolutely _no idea_ how it happened."

And before Remus could shut him up, he turned to Hermione and asked rapidly,

"Do you have a crush on someone? Because I heard from Moony – I mean, not Moony, of course not, but someone _like_ Moony, that –"

Remus cleared his throat, Hermione looked at him and laughed, cutting Sirius off.

"Sirius, the person who told you that must be full of rubbish."

Sirius was about to swivel in his seat furiously to confront the rubbishy person when she added lightly,

"But as a matter of fact, I do."


	7. Chapter 7

**Oh, gee, I feel so bad about all the spiderwebs on my account. So I'm back! With bonding for Harry/James (: Which I'm definitely new at, so apologies if it's cringeworthy crap. I do try D: And you **_**could **_**review as an early Christmas present! –grins– It'd really make my day!**

"I have a question," announced James finally, breaking the meditative silence permeating the boy's dormitory.

"So tell me again, what's new?" sniggered Peter.

He ducked as a large metal object flew towards him, straight through the air where his head had been a split-second ago.

"Missed me."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Whether that oversized, hollow Quaffle was still attached to your shoulders or not wouldn't make a difference to you, Wormtail."

Peter actually managed to whine and pout at the same time.

"You really should stop insulting me, Padfoot! One day I'll think of something ingenious and pull my own prank on you guys."

"That'll be the day," chuckled Sirius. "But seriously, Wormtail, you haven't thought of anything ingenious since the day you decided to join us."

Remus cleared his throat before the situation could degenerate into crude, Stone Age-style gesturing (or head bashing).

"I think James had a question?" he prompted.

"Hm? Oh, yeah." James blinked, looking dazed. "Well, I was wondering... what do you think my son's like?" He glanced towards Harry's empty bed, now slightly embarrassed. "I mean, I know he's my age, and this is all Sirius' crazy mess, but... I'm just curious. After all, he's half of me... sorta."

"Maybe you should go talk to him," suggested Remus.

"Yeah, and ask him if you're one of those dads who cooks and cleans the house. You know, James the _househusband_." Sirius sniggered, and suddenly sat bolt upright. "Wait, wait. I have a question."

"So tell me again, what's new," muttered Peter sullenly.

"James," Sirius demanded, "who's your _wife_?"

For an eternity time seemed to freeze. Then James shattered it with a Mandrake-worthy shriek and shot up from the mattress. He bounced over to Sirius, an ecstatic grin on his face.

"I – KNEW – IT! I – KNEW – IT!" With each syllable he smacked Sirius in the face with a fluffy pillow. Remus and Peter were staring dumbstruck at the scene, mouths hanging open as their friend cackled jubilantly.

"He's lost it," whispered Peter.

James didn't even hear.

"LILY EVANS! I KNEW SHE COULDN'T RESIST ME! AND NOW WE'RE MARRIED!"

Sirius finally recovered his wits and gave James a punch in the solar plexus. The boy gasped and doubled over, winded, and peace was restored for the moment. Feathers fluttered through the air around them, bringing to mind a miniature snowstorm.

"Get – out," groaned Sirius, shoving James off his bed and out the door. "And don't come back until you've found out enough about your life with Evans to hate it!"

***

James found Harry sitting alone in the Quidditch pitch, his Firebolt lying on the bench next to him. He skipped down the stands two steps at a time and clapped his son hard on the back.

"Were you flying?" he asked cheerfully. Harry nodded, looking utterly disoriented.

"Ah, Quidditch," mused James thoughtfully. "I really love that game. And it's not just because it feels good to be the best on the team – which I am, of course," he added. "Nah, it's the exhilaration and bliss and freedom, which you could never get from looking at a Dumbledore Chocolate Frog card..."

His voice trailed off and he leaned back with a contented sigh.

"During matches it's never this quiet," said Harry abruptly, staring determinedly ahead. James turned in surprise.

"You're right," he admitted. "I kinda miss the screaming girls and booing Slytherins. There was this time I scored an unbelievable goal..."

James went off into a ramble about his exploits, and Harry's heart sank. He dearly, sorely missed his father, but now that they were miraculously together, they were talking about Quidditch. _Quidditch._ That had been, and would always be, in his life. His parents had never been in his life, in all his fifteen years.

"– and so I dodged two Bludgers at once, shot like lightning towards the Slytherin side upside down, swerved to the left and threw the Quaffle so that it curled around the Keeper and went straight through the middle hoop," recounted James happily. Then he caught Harry's downcast expression and frowned. This wasn't going right.

"Ah, well, I guess I'm disturbing you, Harry," he said awkwardly, changing tack hurriedly. "You're probably here for some peace. _Which I'm not giving him at all, James, you idiot_," he hissed under his breath. Laughing uncomfortably, he valiantly continued, "Everyone needs a timeout once in a while, eh? I come here too, y'know, when I'm depressed, or feeling abandoned." He paused. "Though I never feel abandoned."

"Really?" Harry looked hopeful, and swiveled towards James.

"Of course! I'm talented and good looking!"

"No, I meant, you come here too?"

"Oh, that. Yeah, definitely! And that's when I prefer the pitch _without_ my adoring fans."

"Did Sirius and Remus ever come and find you?"

"Sure they did," grinned James. "Remus would tell me to forget my issues and Sirius would tell Remus to bite me so I could forget my issues."

"... And that helped?"

"I know, I know, sounds like Padfoot had a real mean streak going, but they _are _my best friends. And Ron and Hermione would do that for you too, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"How's _your_ school life? I'm guessing you tell me every summer holiday, but that's another me, and I'm the paradoxical me, so yep, Time-Turner me here doesn't know."

Harry couldn't decide whether to smile or cry.

"Hogwarts is great, da– James. Of course, Potions is taught by Snape, who hates anything that moves and isn't green and silver, but..."

Everything flowed easier after that, and the afternoon passed in a flash, until the duo finally ran out of things to say, which, considering James' large mouth, was saying something. Figuratively.

Only then did he realize he hadn't asked Harry a single question about Lily. Aka his _wife_. Hah.

It would be such a pity to miss this opportunity to gloat.

But maybe he wasn't supposed to know the future.

And maybe he didn't actually need to find out about Lily Evans. After all, he'd found out so much more about Harry.

And Harry was half of _her_... sorta.

He watched as the last rays of the sun bathed the pitch in an incandescent glow. In the darkening stands, a chill finally began to set in.

James took a deep breath. _Well, it's now or never._

"Hey, um, Harry... I was just... I... am I a good... dad? I mean, y'know, in this time?"

There was a short silence. James glanced sideways, but his son's face was hidden in the shadows.

"Yeah." Harry swallowed hard, feeling pinpricks in the corners of his eyes. "Yeah, you are."

**P.S. ARGHHHHH, A DISASTER!!!**


End file.
